Instead Of "Said", Consider

Instead of "Said", consider

replied

stated

exclaimed

remarked

declared

mentioned

commented

responded

articulated

noted

announced

asserted

observed

suggested

opined

acknowledged

claimed

professed

explained

affirmed

This is beautiful!

Whumptober 2024 No.7 & No.11

Prompt 7: “It’s us or them.”

Prompt 11: Used as Bait (Alt)

Warnings: Allusions to torture; Allusions to violence; Allusions to death.

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

A/N: War of the Worlds was responsible for a portion of this.

gif not mine - google

“They’re gonna lead them right to us, Daryl.” You rocked back and forth, exhausted and bloody, beaten down physically and emotionally by Alpha and her followers. You had been dangled in front of Daryl as bait, a means to bring him to his knees in front of the psychotic woman. Daryl—being Daryl—had refused her demands, knowing full well that he would crawl through hell to rescue you regardless.

And he did.

He was in just as rough of shape as you, giving just as good as he got in order to free you. Now, you were huddled in the corner of a small bunker, attempting to rid your mind of the memories of what Alpha had put you through. A young couple—obviously troubled, likely victims of the Whisperers’ devious plots themselves—bickered and raved over how they would destroy the entire horde with only their weapons and their meager might.

There was no hope of succeeding, but their raised voices of boisterous exclamations were doomed to bring the enemy down on your heads. Daryl had tried relentlessly to reason with them, all but begging for their cooperation and silence. He even offered them a place in Alexandria. They had laughed at him, called him a coward.

There was nowhere else to run. If Alpha discovered the bunker, you and Daryl were as good as dead.

The archer stood a few feet away, chewing on the inside of his cheek, his gaze darting between you and the two idiots standing at the open hatch. After a moment, he sighed and pulled his bandana from his pocket.

“Y’trust me?” He crouched in front of you, blue eyes searching yours, seeking an answer.

“More than anyone.” You replied shakily. He nodded, covering your eyes with the fabric and tying it at the back of your head. His calloused hands then took yours and brought them up toward your ears.

Your brow furrowed behind the bandana. “Daryl?”

“Sing me somethin’.” He waited you out and when you didn’t respond, he continued. “S’us or them.” He whispered, a hint of a tremor in his tone.

You knew what he meant then, what he was going to do regardless of the cost to himself. He knew you couldn’t fight, that you were hurting and tired and broken. He was going to protect you. You swallowed hard, nodding as you allowed him to place your hands over your ears.

“Catch a falling star and put it in your pocket.” You began quietly, your voice trembling. You felt his warm touch pull away, knew the moment he had stood, the second he had left you there. “Never let it fade away.”

You couldn’t hear what was happening but you could feel the vibrations against the dirty, cold concrete behind you. “Catch a falling star and put it in your pocket.” You flinched—something hitting the side of your boot—and drew your knees to your chest while your breath hitched with barely contained sobs. “Save it for a rainy day.”

You were unaware of when the silence ensued, continuing with your quiet tune until you felt the warm presence slowly position at your side. With a deep breath, your trembling hands left your ears and pulled the fabric from over your eyes. Daryl was next to you, his knees drawn up with his arms hanging over them. His head was bowed. There was blood dripping from his fingertips.

“Daryl.”

“S’gonna be okay now.” The light from the single candle in the center of the bunker cast shadows over his face, what wasn’t already hidden by his hair nearly impossible to see. The hatch was closed and there were two bodies lying motionless below it. With slow and careful movements, you pulled his arm across your shoulders, thankful when he held you tighter of his own volition. “You’re safe.” He whispered.

The snarls and shuffles and whispers above ground passed by quickly, never realizing their prize was just below their feet.

This scene. This scene. I swear this scene is the reason I love ANGST. I blame this scene for not being able to enjoy fluff as much as I enjoy angst.

Thank you for coming to my TED talk today.

Sebastian Stan in ‘Captain America: The Winter Soldier’, (2014). Dir. Anthony and Joe Russo.

Tears so many tears

Desert Rose

Chapter 63 ~ Death's Deaf Ears

Pairing : Daryl Dixon x Rose

Era : Season 5

Word Count : 5.9k

In this chapter ~ Grief was an odd thing, and it seemed to come when someone least expected it. As Rose mourned the loss of a girl who had truly touched her heart, she finds that the hits just keep on coming as yet another person falls victim to their fate.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ ROSE POV *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Numb. That's all I felt. Utterly and painfully numb.

After Beth died right in front of my eyes, something changed. Losing her was something I never thought I would ever experience, but here I was, continuously living my life without her. I didn't know how I would move on from this; I didn't even know if I could move on. It seemed like the most impossible thing in the world. She was always this little light at the end of a very dark tunnel, so positive, happy, and having her ripped away from me was one of the hardest things I think I would ever have to experience.

Daryl kept his promise; we buried her. I couldn't stop crying as I watched the dirt being piled on top of her, nor could Maggie. I still could hardly look at her, feeling ashamed and guilty as if it were somehow my fault. All I remember was Glenn holding her tight as Gabriel said some words from the bible, a moment of silence following after he was done.

Although the silence wasn't exactly silent.

Maggie and I sobbed throughout the entire thing as the others around us let a few tears spill as well for the loss. I remember just staring at her grave and nothing else, thinking about the last moments I had with her. Though no amount of time would've ever been enough. I was so angry. She was the last person on earth that deserved to pass so cruelly, and I hoped to God that the bitch who killed her rotted in hell forever.

Her funeral was two weeks ago, but somehow that's all I could remember. I stopped paying attention to where we were going. I stopped attempting to eat much of anything. I stopped caring about everything as a whole. The only thing I found I started to do, was push people away. I didn't have the energy to talk...I didn't even have the energy to care.

I distanced myself from them every chance I got. To be completely honest I didn't know why I was doing it, I was just completely heartbroken, and it felt like it was the only way I could cope. Nobody could say or do anything to make the pain go away, or to make me feel better at all. I just followed them wherever they decided to go, not caring about which direction we went or where our final destination would land. I was just trying to survive.

The group talked about the difference between surviving and living one night around the fire that one long winter, and I think I was finally starting to understand what they meant. Living is actually enjoying the life and opportunities you're given, basking in it almost, but surviving is just...surviving. You're just moving, eating, and drinking to stay alive, not for a purpose. It was depressing but it was true.

Over time, everyone was starting to get the hint that I wanted to be left alone...well, everyone except Daryl. He could never seem to leave my side no matter what. Every time I would go off into the woods by myself to have some peace and quiet, he would wordlessly follow right behind me. He would offer me the rest of his food when he noticed I didn't eat much. He somehow was always clung to my side, worry only consuming him more every passing day when he looked at me.

Don't get me wrong, I loved this man more than anything in this world, but I didn't want him to be constantly hovering over me the way he was, and he sure as hell knew that. He knew how badly I wanted to be left alone, but he just wouldn't allow it as if he feared I would just walk right up to a walker and let it attack me. I wasn't suicidal by any means, even though it wouldn't be that mind blowing if I was. I just needed space, desperately wanting him to understand that.

But I never put up much of a fight whenever the familiar pattern occurred, because I knew if I did, I would absolutely lose it. With everything I was bottling up inside, I knew I would freak out on him, and that wasn't something he deserved. But holy shit was he testing my patience.

That's why when I overheard the group mention something about a place that Noah wanted to visit, his old neighborhood, I wordlessly got up to join them. It took them all a bit by surprise that I was willing to come along, but they didn't seem to question it as I figured they silently appreciated the extra hands to help out. But the truth was I just needed to get away.

It was as if I were constantly suffocating when I was here with the rest of the group. So, it felt like a breath of fresh air when we all finally piled into the car, silently heading towards the old sanctuary that Noah was so anxious to see.

I sat in the very back of the vehicle next to Glenn, briefly hearing the conversation Ty and Noah were having all the way up front as I stared off into space. Though their voices were too muffled to make out any clear kind of word. Leaning my head against the coolness of the window, my tired eyes watched the trees pass by in a flash with how fast we were moving.

Tears slipped from my eyes as they usually did, from the utter exhaustion and depressive feeling that constantly weighed me down, but I just subconsciously wiped them away as more came to fall down my cheeks. It had sadly become a regular habit that haunted me, not knowing anymore if I was crying because my body was begging for sleep, or if I was crying because of the crushing loss. Perhaps it was both.

These past couple weeks I've just been a complete mess of emotions all the time, and I was growing tired of seeing how everyone else looked at me. All I saw was nothing but pity in their eyes every damn time, and I hated it. I didn't want or need anyone to feel sorry for me, but they still did anyways, and I found I had to tell myself that it was something that I unfortunately couldn't control.

Glenn continuously kept subtly stealing glances at me every time I moved my hand up to wipe my cheeks, watching it happen from the corner of my eye. Not even needing to look over and see his face, I sensed his eyebrows were knitted together in concern. They always were.

His hand then hesitantly moved over toward me, landing gently on my knee as he gave it a light squeeze, trying to offer some sort of comfort. My eyes looked over to him, seeing him sending me a small, yet reassuring smile, but I only scooted further away from his touch.

My gaze panned back out the window, my head now turned completely away from him as I heard him sigh quietly in defeat. I didn't let it bother me though as I started to absentmindedly play with Beth's bracelet that was now on my wrist.

Looking down at the woven colorful strings, made me think of the very moment I gave it to her. It was during one of the nights we spent together talking for hours on end, remembering her mentioning how her friends used to make cheap friendship bracelets, and she missed old times like that. So, on the next run I went on, I made sure to keep an eye out for any kind of string so I could make her something special just like she had in the old world.

When I found the supplies and made it for her, she was absolutely overjoyed to see the bright strings tied together to make a colorful band just like the one she had in the past. It hit me then and there that she was one of the few people I would do just about anything for. Like hunting down that new guitar and teaching her more songs, or singing with her in front of the group just to make her happy, or making sure to take care of Judith when she needed a little break.

More tears pooled in my eyes at the thought of never doing anything special for her again. Never having the late night talks we used to share, or never hearing her sing ever again. I was going to miss her voice. She was such a pure soul, and now she was gone. Ripped away selfishly from all of us forever.

Sighing to myself, I wiped my eyes once again and tried to stop my emotions from spilling all over the place, wanting to gather myself as much as I could as to not let Glenn see me completely break down. Luckily the car coming to a halt snapped me out of my thoughts and I looked around to see that we had finally made it after the long drive.

We all climbed out of the car and I trailed behind everyone as they led the way, a machine gun held loosely in my hands. It was a longer walk through the trees before we finally came up to the gated neighborhood, Glenn being the first one to climb up and peer over to the inside. Though he only seemed to glance around the street on the other side for a moment or two, before looking back down towards us and shaking his head sadly.

For some reason, it didn't click in my mind back at the hospital what Rick was talking about when he mentioned Noah wanting to go home. But I understood now, wanting to get back to his community that he was once ripped away from, the family and friends that he thought were here waiting for him. But we all silently knew just by Glenn's action meant that none of them made it through something that happened recently.

Noah's eyes widened as the realization hit him like a bus, quickly limping over toward the opposite side of the guarded place, hopping over the edge to see for himself what was left inside. We all followed his lead quickly as we didn't know where he would go, rushing over the gate just as he was nearly jogging down the streets, desperately trying to see if anyone was left alive.

The kid didn't stop, not even when Rick called out for him quietly, only slowing down the second he saw a few dead bodies ahead lying on the concrete, along with a few walkers wandering around on the grass. He broke down completely and fell to the ground, starting to sob in the middle of the street at the loss of his people. My heart broke for him, knowing the feeling all too well when we all got separated back at the prison. Thinking your family is dead- or worse, knowing your family is dead, is just about the worst feeling in the entire world.

The walkers that were still lingering around the area suddenly began to take notice of the sobbing boy, their eyes then panning over to the rest of us in pure hunger and desperation. I watched as Michonne wordlessly took out her sword to take care of them before they could get any closer to us, but I stopped her with a wave of my hand.

"I got them." I muttered under my breath, taking out a few knives as they only inched closer.

Four of them managed to make their way over, spread out from each other, making it easier for me to take them on. I gripped the knife in my hand tightly before chucking it at one of their heads, watching it slowly fall to its knees before completely crashing onto the concrete below.  I easily killed another, spinning around out of its reach right before it could grab me, kicking its leg out from under it before stabbing it in the back of the head.

I quickly retrieved my other knife from the dead walker's head, before stabbing the next one coming at me straight through its eye. Though with everything going on, my attention being drawn in too many different directions, I seemed to lose sight of the fourth. But right as that thought ran through my mind, familiar loud growls were heard from just behind my frame, giving me no chance to react.

In the split second I whipped around to face the monster, the steel of a sword was going straight through its head before it could sink its teeth into me, the blade almost poking me in the nose with how close it was to my face. The walker fell harshly to the ground by my boots when the weapon was retracked back, revealing Michonne huffing like she had to rush over to make it just in time.

I scoffed as I put my knives back in place around my hips, "I told you had it." I spoke stubbornly.

She looked slightly taken aback, "You had it, huh?" she asked, following me the moment I tried to walk away, "You got a death wish or something? I was helping you."

"Don't." I snapped, turning around to face her again, "I don't recall the last time I needed anyone's supervision, I'm fine."

She surprisingly wasn't frustrated at my snappy tone, her calmness never fading as she looked at me with the same damn pity I had been witnessing constantly. "You didn't need to take that on alone."

I silently knew the double meaning behind her words, and it just made me scoff, "I'm fine." I repeated before I continued to walk away.

But the more I began to think, the faster I got my second wind, turning around with a pointed finger in her direction, "You think I haven't noticed the way everyone's been staring at me lately? Like I'm so fragile or something that you have to tiptoe around me. But I'm the same exact person that's dealt with one loss after another...and this isn't any different."

I felt my face get hot with how much emotion was suddenly filling my voice, spinning around on my heel the second my sentence was finished so she wouldn't see me crumble. I knew she was just trying to help, but again, I didn't need people thinking that I was weak just because I lost somebody important.

My steps became slowly hesitant as I approached the group once more, seeing Noah in the same spot on the ground as he cried with his head in his hands. Though Rick saw me coming out of the corner of his eye, walking up to speak to me lowly.

"Listen, we're planning on picking through a few houses to gather up what we can. Try and get Noah back on his feet to come back with us...you good with that?"

I shrugged, "It doesn't matter."

"It does." he insisted.

I didn't bother to answer him as I just simply turned around to head into the few houses that were the closest to me, wanting to grab whatever was left inside before we were ultimately back on the road with the others. I hadn't brought my bag, but I could only assume there would be at least one in the houses I picked through, something to carry everything back. Rick called after me, but I just ignored him and kept going, itching to finally be alone for once in what felt like forever.

I walked up to the closest structure I saw and went in through the garage. I opened and shut the door loudly behind me to alert any potential walkers inside to make themselves known. But when I was only met with silence, I took that as my cue to head in deeper as I trucked up the stairs into the living room. Right away I spotted an old backpack hanging on a doorhandle, peeking inside to see if there was anything useful, but it was only a few crumpled folders and a poetry book. I scanned the cover, the title seeming to intrigue me a bit as I decided to keep it before slinging the bag over my shoulder to look for supplies.

I raided through the kitchen and was only met with one can of beans and two cans of corn left in the cabinets. Down the hall were a few extra rooms to pick through as I silently hoped to have a little more success. I checked out the bathroom first, wanting to see if there was some medication I could bring back. All I was met with were some empty pill bottles and some really expired tums, but I did a double take when I looked in the mirror.

It was safe to say I looked terrible. There were bags under my eyes that could carry someone's groceries, and the cuts on my cheek and neck were almost completely healed; but scarred like a mother fucker. Though I was silently thankful that whoever stitched me up at the hospital picked the stiches that dissolve on their own so I wouldn't have to worry about taking them out myself. That would've been a bitch to do.

I then headed toward the few bedrooms that had yet to be checked, finding the master didn't have much to offer other than a few clean shirts that I managed to take. Even the bathroom attached to the space hardly had anything at all, but I was lucky enough to find some tampons. Lord only knows how scarce those were. I put the box in my bag whilst I looked toward the remaining bedrooms, one looking to be a child's. There was clearly nothing worth taking from there which led me to the final room on the right, assuming it was a teenagers based on the decorations.

My eyes scanned to see the space was pretty clean, but my attention was immediately drawn to the object that sat tall on the twin bed. A guitar.

A lump formed in my throat as I looked at the instrument, biting the inside of my cheek to try to keep myself together. I felt my shoulders sag in defeat as I slowly lowered myself to sit on the ground, exhaling a shaky breath as I thought about the one girl that hadn't left my mind for one second in the passing weeks. She was everywhere. Everywhere I looked there would be some sort of sign that she was there with me.

The first night after she passed, I had to move away from the sleeping group because I couldn't stop sobbing, fearing I was being too loud. It was the only time I was able to sneak off without Daryl following close behind me, feeling as though I could actually get away. I didn't know if he did it on purpose or if he just didn't realize. But in the back of my mind, I knew that he was aware, he just wanted me to have a moment to mourn by myself.

I walked further into the woods as I tried desperately to pull myself back together, my head tilting up toward the sky in attempt to stop the waterfall of tears from falling. But that action caused me to catch a glimpse of a shooting star passing through the night sky, just like the first night I had grieved the loss of Hershel. It was like her own little sign of telling me that not only was she safe, but she was with her dad again. And it only made me cry harder.

After that, the signs just kept appearing over and over. Like a single flower blooming in the middle of a dead, yellow field. Or when I came across a tree with just the single letter B carved into the wood of the trunk. And now this guitar sitting before me, almost mocking me. She was everywhere I looked, and I didn't know whether to find comfort or sadness in that aspect.

My head then snapped up when I heard the sound of the door beside me creaking open, seeing Glenn standing there with a sorrowful look on his face. I mentally groaned that he was witnessing this yet again, looking away from him as I dried my eyes, feeling him come to sit down right beside me without uttering a word.

I didn't know if I wanted his company or not, but frankly my mind was too scrambled to even think about it for too long. So, I let him stay. He was silent for a while as I put myself together again, before his gaze landed on the one thing I kept glancing back to, hearing him sigh to himself in defeat.

"I miss her too."

"Stop." I cut him off, sniffling and pulling up my sleeves to help dry my cheeks.

He shook his head insistently, "Ro, you don't have to go through this alone, just let us help-"

"I'm still grieving." I breathed, now looking over at him, "Have you said any of this to Maggie? Have you even uttered a word to her about Beth?"

His silence spoke louder than my own voice did, and he didn't need to say a word for me to know the answer. "I didn't think so." I muttered.

Another long and loud silence passed as he truly didn't know what to say to me anymore. It made me think about how the hell we even got here, the losses we've taken only driving us further apart while we mourned in different ways.

"I'm sorry." he finally whispered, "I know how close you were with her, but-"

"No, no," I said, shaking my head, "But nothing. I was close with her, and then I lost her, and now I'm grieving...end of story."

"But you don't need to do it alone." he nearly pleaded.

I shook my head again in disbelief, "You don't get it." I let out a breathy, humorless laugh, "I was alone my whole life...I never got too close to anyone, and that's the only way I knew. I've never lost anybody like this before, not one this tragic. All of you can understand what it feels like to lose someone important...but I have no idea what it's like. This is all so new to me...losing someone I cherished so much. And...I need to figure it out on my own."

When I finally got the nerve to look him in the eye after spilling my heart out, there was a clear mist of tears glistening in his eyes at the feeling I described, easily sensing he wanted nothing more but to wrap me in a tight hug. But he didn't. He was scared it would only make me uncomfortable, push me away further, so he just stayed put as he thought about his next words carefully.

"Daryl slipped up one night...a long time ago about how, um..." he swallowed thickly, "About how you tried to run after Sophia died." he quietly admitted.

My eyes slightly widened as I made a mental note to kill Daryl later. "I just- I don't know...I guess I'm just making sure you don't run this time...because I can't lose you too, Ro."

His emotions were clear as day as he fully bared his soul to me it seemed like, my heart nearly shattering at the thought of him worrying that I would just disappear. I didn't want him to think that, I didn't want anyone to think that. I just needed to process all the emotions and difficulties for however long it took. I wasn't going to just run away, because the truth was, that would break me even more.

"I'm not going to run," I promised as I looked over at him sadly, "I'm staying right here...I just need some time...okay?"

He nodded slowly, "Okay..."

But the moment we were having, even if it was a small one, was completely cut short as the front door of the house opened and closed with a slam, followed by rushed footsteps until Rick suddenly appeared in the doorway, "Come on! Tyreese was bit!" he spoke in a panic.

Barely even processing the words he was saying, his franticness was all it took for me to jump to my feet and sprint behind the man to get out of the house as quickly as we could. My legs were moving faster and faster as my heart was harshly beating out of my chest. I didn't care how badly my lungs burned or how tired I felt from the lack of rest I'd been getting; I was determined to get to him. To save him.

We all rushed inside the house to find him in one of the bedrooms, laying on the floor and bleeding out profusely. All the color was drained from his face as he had a hazy look in his eye like he was about to pass out from the blood loss. Rick hurried over and pulled his arm out as far as he could, catching a glimpse of where the bite mark was embedded in his flesh. Though it didn't even look like the movement had affected him at all as he laid there almost limply.

Michonne quickly whipped out her sword and with one swipe, she was able to cut his limb clean off. I just stood there in shock, not being able to move or even breathe as I watched them slice his arm completely from his body. I told myself I'd save him, but I couldn't even do that. The scene was so gruesome and horrible, almost too much to even fathom right now.

Rick and Glenn didn't hesitate to find some kind of sheet to wrap around what was left of his arm to slow down the bleeding, before then hauling him up to help him out of the house, the man's weight resting heavily on their shoulders. I snapped out of my sudden trance as soon as they brushed passed me, not hesitating to follow them out of the house and back down towards the gate.

I kept up them as the two practically jogged with him in their grasp, the others just behind us as the gate was slowly coming into view, yet just out of reach. But we had to think fast, climbing back over wasn't exactly an option and the gate was chained shut, the sound of walkers now on the other side as they tried to claw their way in.

"We have to break the lock!" Rick yelled.

I nodded frantically, rushing over to fumble with the thick chains before they finally became loose enough to open up the large wooden doors, sending the walkers from the outside piling in toward us. I reached for my bow and started to fire arrows at the ones coming our way while Noah held Tyreese up and away from the chaos, trying to get him to keep his eyes open.

The rest of us fought off the corpses one by one so we could make our way through, needing to get him back to the car as fast as possible. We managed to kill them off within only seconds, Rick and Glenn quickly turning back to help him up as the rest of us ran ahead to make sure the area was clear. We booked it towards the car through the familiar route we took earlier, my eyes constantly darting back multiple times to see Ty still awake, yet barely conscious.

Killing a few more dead ones along the way, we eventually all picked him up one limb at a time while Noah directed us back to the vehicle just ahead of us. The pace we were once going was far too slow, and when we saw the amount of his blood staining the sheet that he held loosely, we knew we had to pick up the pace. I felt the sadness building as I tried to hold it together, shaking my head to try and prevent it from happening. He had to stay alive. I couldn't lose myself in my emotions if I wanted him to stay alive.

After what felt like ages, we finally made it to the van, pushing myself to get in first to help lower him onto the middle row so he would be laying down flat on his back. I held onto his legs while his head was resting on the opposite window, Glenn and Michonne quickly climbing over to get in the back. Rick ran around to the front as Noah got in the passenger seat and as soon as the kid closed the door with a slam, Rick floored it to race back to the others.

My chest rose and fell with every heavy breath, looking over at Tyreese's face to see his eyes start to grow heavy, my hand immediately tapping on his leg so he wouldn't pass out.

"Come on Ty, stay awake." I said, trying hard to hide the desperation in my voice.

He lazily opened his eyes once again and I sighed in relief, "We're getting closer, just hold on. You're going to be okay...you're going to be fine."

I kept lightly tapping his leg, praying that he would stay conscious as my other hand moved to now put more pressure on his gaping wound. The car swerved around back and forth aggressively, Rick trying to speed as fast as he could to make it back. I could hear Noah yelling the directions at him frantically, which ways to turn, but it all just ended up fuzzy in my mind, not being able to focus on anything as my mind spiraled.

My gaze shifted down once more to check on him again, but his eyes were now completely closed. I tried to keep calm as I saw his state, tapping on his leg a bit harder to get his eyes to flutter open again.

"Ty?" I asked.

He didn't flinch.

"Ty? Tyreese, open your eyes."

Rick's head spun around at the sound of my words, hearing him sigh dreadfully in defeat, but I didn't give up as I only shook him harder in the bumpiness of the car. "Tyreese you have to open your eyes. Open your eyes. Come on." I begged.

I felt the car begin to slow down to a stop and instinctively looked out the window to see we were pulled over onto the side of the road. Panic flooded through me, quickly hopping out of the car along with everyone else. They all pulled Tyreese out of the van, but he still stayed unresponsive, my eyes widening as I instantly pushed Noah and Glenn out of the way and got down on my knees next to him.

I leaned down to rest my ear against his chest, trying to listen for a heartbeat, but was met with nothing. No. He wasn't going to die. I quickly shot back up and folded my hands together, starting to firmly push over his heart to start CPR, mentally counting to thirty as I tuned everything else out.

"Rosie." I heard Rick's distant voice from behind me, but I ignored him.

I kept counting silently in my head, tilting his head up to breathe into his mouth twice before going back to push on his chest, counting again. I briefly heard them talking around me, but I couldn't bring myself to hear, focusing on him and him alone to try and keep him alive.

"Rose." Rick tried again, sadness filling his voice.

I ignored him once more as I aggressively pressed on Tyreese's chest again and again, before suddenly feeling his hand wrap around my arm in attempt to pull me back, "No." I snapped, ripping myself out of his hold to keep going.

I felt his hand pull me again, "No! Rick, no!" I yelled as I fought to get away from his grasp.

"Rose, come on." he spoke quietly.

His voice and protests meant nothing to me. I couldn't let him die. But both of his hands suddenly brought my arms back, pulling me away from his body, "No! I can save him! Please!" I screamed as I thrashed around to try and get out of his hold.

But he didn't let me go, slowly inching me further away from him, "I can save him! I can save him Rick, please!" I pleaded desperately as tears began to stream down my face once more.

He got down on his knees and held me back by my shoulders as I saw Michonne slowly walking over towards his head. "No! No, please don't! Let me save him!"

But my words only fell on deaths deaf ears, everyone around me sadly ignoring my protests as they all knew what needed to be done. I kept fighting, begging for them to listen to me, squirming harshly in Rick's arms as he tried to shush me.

"Don't look Rosie...don't look." he whispered right beside my ear, his arms squeezing me softly.

And before I could even bat an eye, Michonne quickly stabbed Tyreese in the head with her sword in one swift motion, squeezing her eyes shut as she listened to my sobs.

"No!" I yelled, watching his blood trickle down her weapon as my vison only blurred more with tears.

Rick gently pulled me closer to his chest as I continued to cry, whispering reassuring things that only I could hear, but I couldn't be bothered to listen. My eyes didn't stray away from Tyreese's dead body in front of me, feeling a fantom weight beginning to crush me at yet another person I couldn't save.

I mindlessly watched from a distance as Gabriel once again read from the bible at another dreadful funeral. Everyone around his grave was taking turns to scoop some dirt to cover him more and more, but I just couldn't force myself to do it. My eyes were puffy, my stomach churned as I felt like I could throw up with how much not only I've lost, but what we've all lost. I could see so clearly that everyone was holding on by a thread, and I was only finding myself closer to my own breaking point.

My eyes lingered on Sasha as she fiddled with the necklace that used to be around Tyreese's neck and brought it to her lips to kiss, the beanie he always wore being placed on the makeshift cross above where he would rest peacefully. It couldn't have been more devastating.

Looking up, I saw that Gabriel was finished and people were slowly starting to disperse after their silent goodbyes. Finding myself leaving as quickly as I could. Not because I wanted to, but because I could hardly stand to look at the scene any longer. My steps were slow and heavy as I began to walk back to the makeshift camp we had set up, but I quickly felt a presence lingering behind me. And I didn't need to turn around to know who it was, the sting of his eyes on me was all too familiar.

He wanted to say something to me, I could sense how desperately he was trying to find the right words. But the truth was, we hadn't uttered a thing to each other since Beth, and I silently knew he had no idea how to even approach me anymore. However, that was the least of my concerns. He was breathing, and that seemed to be all that mattered to me.

All I could focus on now, was surviving.

~ Thanks for reading! (Whew, this one was hard to get through just like the last. It really doesn't get easier does it?)

Taglist ~ @justareader95 @hayley1998 @ryoujoking @sipsthecoffee @winterassassin1804 @marsmallow433 @catlalice @writingstreetspirit @silentlysuffering @mystictf @remuslittlesister

your first draft is going to suck. And that’s okay. It’s supposed to suck. Your first draft isn’t about writing something good, it’s about writing something. You’re just shoveling sand into the sandbox so you can build castles later. Get the words on the page, even if they’re clumsy, even if you cringe while writing them. The magic happens in the revision, but you can’t revise a blank page. So let the first draft be messy. Let it be flawed. Just get it down, because that’s where the real work begins.

I cackled out loud when I read this! I can see him doing this!

gif by @daryl-dixon-daydreams

Y/N, screeching and slamming the bathroom door: Daryl! Daryl, there’s a spider outside the bathroom!

Y/N: Please, kill it!

Y/N: Daryl!

Y/N, blinking as a note is slipped under the door: Daryl?

Daryl’s dead. You’re next.

Love,

the spider.

Y/N, deadpanning: …

Y/N, wadding up the note: You’re not funny!

Daryl, carrying the spider outside: M’hilarious.